Blue
by Flowers47
Summary: Alek and Volger are making too much noise, and Deryn is sent to shut them up. What she discovers is a dashing, helpless prince (in uniform!), in need of a princess to save him. One-shot


She could hear them fighting. It seemed like everyone on board could, they were so loud.

But she was the only one who could understand them.

They were shouting in German and while Deryn didn't speak it, not by a long shot, she knew enough to get the gist of the argument. Alek had been trying to teach her his Clanker-talk, and he sometimes muttered to himself in the language, so she'd picked a little up here and there.

Volger yelled something about Alekzander's inheritance (She knew "inheritance" because Alek liked to swear on his, "Meine verdammte erbschaft" he always said, and shook his head while he did so), and the prince yelled back a series of incomprehensible words.

"Somebody shut them up!" muttered a passing crewmate from the hall, and Newkirk turned to Dylan.

"You've got to do something. They've been like this for hours!"

Deryn refused to look up from her book, determined to enjoy the few moments off-duty.

"What can I do about it?" she said, oozing sarcasm.

"Don't be silly. That princely bloke listens to you. If you could just tell them to pipe down…" He made a pleading face, and Deryn knew that she wouldn't have a moment's rest until she convinced their Austrian shipmates to hush up.

"Fine." She slammed her book closed, and left the cabin that she shared with the other middy to stomp off to Alek's stateroom. She didn't bother to knock when she got there; they wouldn't have been able to hear her over their own voices anyway.

Stepping into the room, she wished she had.

Volger was looming over the prince, right up in his space. Alek himself was standing firm, feet planted wide, eyes shining dangerously. He was dressed in what seemed to be an Austrian military officer's uniform- a dark blue shirt with a high collar and red bands down the front, held down by gold buttons. Dark black trousers made his legs look trim and his hips narrow, while epaulets made his shoulders seem so broad. They surely couldn't have been that nice-looking all the time, could they? Deryn would have noticed. Although, just the other day she had been thinking about how good the work on the ship had made his arms look…

The two men noticed her standing, frozen, in the doorway.

Alek turned back to Volger, his voice hard. "Count. You are dismissed."

The Count fumed. His face turned a bright, angry red, and he leaned in very close to Alek's face.

"Remember your duties, _sir_." He strode past Deryn, shoving her a little on his way out. He gave a harsh whisper and a glare that threw daggers.

"And you, remember your place." She waited until he was gone, then stuck her tongue out at his back, and then pulled the door closed. She thought she heard a cheer echo down the corridor at the sudden silence.

"Dylan, hallo." He spoke in German without thinking- still flustered then.

"Hallo," She said back, trying to mimic his pronunciation.

"Wie viel larm machten wir? Ach!" He hit himself on the forehead with his palm, "You let me speak German!"

"You needed it. What are you doing?" She couldn't stop looking at his neck. The top buttons on his shirt were open, revealing a delicate collarbone.

"It was Volger's idea. He said that I should be presentable when we land, put up a strong front. I'm supposed to look like I know what I'm doing, or something. I just look daft." He glanced down at himself, the opened his arms and looked at her expectantly, waiting for an opinion. Deryn tried not to drool.

"You look…like an Emperor."

"Oh." They stared at each other. Heat crackled along the room, and Deryn found that suddenly it was hard to breathe. He looked right into her eyes, those beautiful, sad, pools conveying trust and surprise and embarrassment all at once. She saw in her mind's eye a vision of herself covering the distance between them, taking his face into her hands and pressing her lips against his. He would wrap those arms around her and press her into himself, shocked and prudish against this sudden display of messy biology, but he wouldn't be able to resist her. She would pull back, and tell him her secret, and then she would push that beautiful blue dress uniform off his marvelous shoulders and he would kiss her a little more firmly and then-

"This was a bad idea." His voice snapped her out of her daydream.

"W-what?" She stuttered, feeling not a little hot under the collar.

"I'm not a real soldier, you're more of one than I am, I'll just take this off and put my pilot's clothes back on-" he reached for the buttons."

"No! I mean, no. Wear the uniform." She did cross over to him, pressed her hands against where he was trying to undo the thankfully rather complex ties. "Trust me Alek. You look dashing. The whole empire will fall to you."

Those eyes again, beseeching, "Do you really think so?"

She smiled, "I do."


End file.
